


Tales of a Life Half Lived

by volkova21



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Multiverse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:48:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23693413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/volkova21/pseuds/volkova21
Summary: We all have secrets, what to do when they become too much?
Relationships: Myka Bering/Helena "H. G." Wells
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this is my first foray into the WH13 universe, so y'know, the usual warnings about quality and errors and such. And the "I don't own anything nor do I profit off of this" disclaimer. Not entirely sure just how AU this will go yet (or if it even qualifies as AU, cause artifacts). They may be a bit OOC, and it's going to be a bit... dark? At least, at parts, I might do a happy ending (not sure how though). It's honestly a dream that I had and it wasn't super happy when I woke up but at least it was B&W. Right, now that that's out of the way, enjoy! (Also, copied from FFN)

Prologue

_We all have secrets, things we can't say, can't give life to outside of our minds. We all have stories to hide, moments that define and shape us, create who we are. They fester, the longer we dwell on them, they seek to control and take a life of their own. A moment here, a breath there, and then gone. Dividing us, isolating us, until at last that crack is a gorge, white water we cannot cross. But sometimes, even if we cannot find sanctuary, we can at least find solace with another. A moment of peace carved out, an unspoken agreement to avoid those topics, not to ask questions but simply to comfort._

Myka Bering was used to keeping secrets, it had been part of her job after all, there was a reason it was called the Secret Service. But even then, those secrets had never caused such a divide as her current predicament. She'd felt so isolated after Yellowstone. Even now, a couple months after the fact, she'd returned to the Warehouse, but could still feel the cold steel of a service weapon pressed against her forehead. The metal smooth and polished upon her skin, two concentric rings, one shiny, glinting under the afternoon sun, the other black with carbon. Her green eyes pleading as she begged for death, as she wished her end to come first. Her confidence wavered only a moment as she looked up into chocolate eyes, dark and filled with pain, practically unrecognizable. Wide and bright, searching like a wild animal, trapped in her actions, and then she was back. Her Helena. And she breathed a sigh of relief as the gun fell, as she dropped to her knees. Tears forming at the edges of her eyes, welling up and spilling over, she fell apart.

And Myka surged forward, catching her, feeling the weight of the moment, the slight woman trembling in her arms as she reached out, grasping for anything, wanting desperately to touch something solid. Her hands found comfort in Myka, fingers twisting and curling into her shirt, balling it up as her hands closed into fists, tears soaking the soft material at her shoulder. She offered what protection she could, hollow words, lacking emotion after the display they had just put on, empty and worthless, tasting like dirt upon her tongue, it would never be enough, never be anything but a lie. They both knew it, but pretended it to be true, a secret shared between them, an act that propriety demanded until it ended.

Soon enough, it would be over, soon the Regents would be there. They would take her away. To a prison they could only imagine, maybe back to the Bronze Sector, back to the start, to the nightmare that created the situation. They would wrench her away, filled with anger and none of the pain, none of the betrayal or sadness that either of them felt. And that would be that.

She was already calculating her next step, planning her life out, a life anew, she'd made a mistake, such a big mistake, and there was no way she could trust herself again. She'd put Pete in danger, hell, she'd almost caused the end of the world, she'd fought for Helena, pushed for them to let her back into the Warehouse, her words created this, but she wouldn't be punished, she'd have to create her own penance.

Helena was ripped away, a silent scream as pain flashed in her eyes, she reached out, trying to cling to Myka, to hold on while she still could, but they just pulled harder, lifting her to her feet and dragging her away, towards the looming, black SUV. Leaving Myka kneeling in the dirt, watching them take her away without a backwards glance, they were gone. Helena's eyes never left her.

Tears hadn't stopped, probably never would, as she felt like she as dying inside. She'd left the Warehouse, gone back home, to Colorado, to her parent's bookstore. It had been her sanctuary growing up, hidden amongst the books, able to read them all and escape to new worlds. Her favorites had always been HG Wells', she'd avoided them this time, shooting dark looks at the small section of sci-fi the store offered. Her parents had cast curious looks at her, their eyes meeting and a slight shrug passing between them. They knew better than to ask. She wouldn't answer anyways, another one of her secrets.

A month had passed before she couldn't take it, tension filling the small space as her parents wanted to ask and she wanted to hide. But the Warehouse has a secret too, it won't let go until it's ready, and it wasn't her time. Pete had come strolling into the bookstore one day, asking questions, surprise evident upon his features, he was angry, pain clear in his eyes, he'd grown up and pushed her out when she'd refused to return. His new partner just looked curiously between them, unsure of what it was he was witness to.

Shortly after that she'd decided to return. Another secret tucked away in the recesses of her mind, one she refused to acknowledge. Darkness had found a place within her and was creeping forward, tugging at the edges of her sanity, she formulated a plan, needed an escape and the Warehouse would provide. They welcomed her back with open arms, any suspicions over her sudden change of heart pushed aside and ignored.

It had only taken another month until her plan came to fruition. She'd spent her time doing inventory walking the shelves, searching, looking for anything that would work, anything that would take her away. It was a newer artifact, the ping that had alerted the Warehouse to its existence was probably a fluke (maybe, most likely, or not. It didn't matter.) See, people kept... disappearing, except, they weren't just disappearing, it was like they'd never existed. So, if they'd never existed, then the Warehouse couldn't have warned them of something strange, but it did, and they knew that someone was using it, but there was no evidence. The item could have gone on doing its thing without ever being caught, but somehow, they found it. Max Tegmark's rough draft of a paper known simply as _Parallel Universes_.

The agents could only assume that those who used it were travelling _to_ a parallel universe. And they didn't know how to get them back, how to unwhammy those who had found it. But it suited her needs nicely. Even if she didn't know what was going to happen, maybe she'd have a chance to fix things, or not. At least, she could have a new life, one where she hadn't almost (even if indirectly) caused the end of the world.

And that was how she found herself, standing on the Warehouse floor, a stack of papers in her hand, pacing back and forth as she readied (steadied) her nerves.

Her hands shaking slightly, cold and clammy as her nerves rebelled against her, she took a deep breath and nodded sharply, another secret then. She reached into her jacket pocket, removing a folded up piece of paper, a note hastily scratched out upon its pristine white surface. Splotches of ink soaking through where she'd let the pen rest too long, contemplating what to say next, or what not to say. She knew they'd have questions, they'd never get the answer.

She placed it on the shelf in front of her and removed the pages from the bag, clutching them tightly in her hands, waiting for the artifact to activate.

A scream was ripped from her lungs as she was pulled apart, shredded unceremoniously as her body was dismantled, each particle separated from its neighbor, she was stretched and crushed and twisted as she moved through space. Pain screamed from her nerves, clawing its way from her chest, blurring her vision and she found herself wishing for death once more. Anything to stop what she felt.

It ended as suddenly as it began. The pain was over and her body reassembled itself. But she was tired, oh so tired, and her limbs were heavy, sluggish with sleep, refusing to move under her own power. She felt her breathing slow, evening out as her mind drifted off.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Myka awoke in unfamiliar surroundings, a steady beeping coming from somewhere. She blinked slowly, her eyes adjusting to the sterile white of the room she found herself in. Her limbs still felt heavy, weighted down as though they were lead. She groaned softly as she tried to lift her head, her need to examine the room overpowering the pounding she felt behind her eyes.

She moved minutely, her head barely rising from the pillow, if at all, no longer weighted down the pillow rose with her. Myka fell back with a groan, the thudding had only increased with her exertion. Outside, a voice echoed down the halls, from an overhead page. She listened to the steady beeping, felt the needle in her arm, a cord crossing over her arm, the clean room, when realization struck her. Myka was in a hospital.

But how had she gotten there? What had happened? She couldn't remember, no that's not right, her brow furrowed in concentration, she'd chosen to come here, but not the hospital. So, just the last part of her trip, that's what she didn't remember. Another secret then.

She'd recalled landing hard, like a bag of cement, the ground even harder. It tickled, brushing and poking at her exposed skin, grass then. And above birds chirped, children screamed, their voices carried on the wind. She must be near a park. Exhaustion pulled her back under, someone must have found her, gotten her help.

"Ah, good, you're awake then," a voice spoke from the doorway, she struggled to open her eyes, trying to acknowledge that she'd heard them speak. But it was just too hard, her mind was still swimming, her body not cooperating.

"That'll be the medicine," the voice spoke again, female, soft and gentle, and... familiar. Myka forced her eyes open, forced her head to turn towards the sound, and took in the kind, brown eyes of Leena, always so expressive, a slight smile upon her face as she crossed the room, heading to adjust the IV.

The bag was almost empty, she quickly changed it out and strung up another before crossing to the computer at the wall, making notes. "How are you feeling?" she asked, barely taking her eyes off the screen before her.

Myka tried to respond, a rough sound escaped from her throat, tight and constricted, more a gasp than a grunt, but it was something. Leena smiled at her, a slight nod offered in acknowledgement as Myka's eyes drifted shut once again.

* * *

The doctors had come in to talk to her the next day, Myka recalled, it was still a fight to keep her eyes open, her mind focused, exhaustion tugging at the edges, she listened as they spoke, her mind echoing their words as they explained what had happened.

She'd been found unresponsive in a nearby park, the ambulance had brought her here (she still wasn't sure where 'here' was), they'd done tests, discovered she was having a heart attack. That had scared her, more than she'd thought possible considering how she'd been, well, apathetic at best since Yellowstone. The word tasted bitter on her tongue, dry and chalky, heavy with unspoken meaning.

But they'd continued on, talking without pause, barely focused on her as they recited their script. She was healthy now, their treatment had worked, and while they didn't know the cause, she wasn't in any further danger and would be discharged later that afternoon. An afterthought was added, she should probably call someone to come get her if at all possible.

Myka had tried not to panic at that, hoping she could find someone, wishing desperately to keep her face neutral.

* * *

She'd been in luck, her parents still ran the bookstore, and without any other place to go, she found herself once again working in the store. Her "different" life so far didn't seem to be so different. Really, aside from not having any contact with the Warehouse, and Leena not being at the B&B, there wasn't much else that was different. Bering and Sons was still Bering and Sons, her dad was still disappointed in her, her mother was still as distant as ever, and she was drifting aimlessly.

And she still couldn't manage to forget HG Wells. She felt haunted by the ghost of the Victorian author, the looks, her soft touches, fingers gliding over her skin, her flirtations. She could still see HG standing there in front of her, her cocky smile and shining eyes as her words registered in Myka's ears, causing a blush to spring forth.

Myka was pulled from her reveries as she heard the antique brass bell over the door jingle, signaling the arrival of a customer. She stood up from where she was crouched behind the counter, wiping her hands off on her pants legs as she stood, and made to greet the customer, repeating the script she offered to everyone, only to have her words die in her throat.

Before her was the now familiar, forever ingrained in her mind (and would have been even without her memory), form of HG Wells.

The Brit was casually dressed, a black leather jacket covering a wine red tank top, and dark blue jeans. Her black boots clicked on the wooden floor below, a hollow thunk with every step, as she entered the store fully.

A whisper escaped from between Myka's lips, "Helena," as emotion burst forth, eyes shining with the unresolved pain of their last encounter, brimming with tears, both happy and sad as she laid eyes upon her reason for being here, the cause of her journey.

The other woman paused in her steps, confusion settling over her features, "I'm sorry? Have we met?"

The words were silky, smoothly gliding from between pink lips, her voice unsure but she'd put on a false bravado, unwilling to be caught off guard. She resumed her approach towards the counter, coming to lean upon her, resting her elbows atop the scratched glass surface. It put her squarely in Myka's space, causing her nerves to double down as her mind searched for any plausible reason, any way to explain away her mistake. She'd cursed herself under her breath as she'd realized what she said, and panicked internally as she was heard.

"I'd like to think there's no way I could forget a beautiful face, but alas, I seem unable to recognize you, so I'm afraid you have me at quite the disadvantage," she spoke in low tones, confidence dripping from her words as she spoke, a mask, Myka was aware.

She'd learned it was how Helena maintained control of her situation, she'd flirt, catch them off guard, trick them into revealing too much, giving themselves away, and she was good at it. But she'd never met the force that was Myka, the only one who had bested her at her game (granted, it had taken time, and lots of it, but she'd eventually learned her tricks).

Myka leaned against the counter, mirroring Helena's position, a smirk playing upon her lips, "Lucky guess I suppose," her eyes alight, dancing with a passion she had never expected to feel again. "So, what can I help you with?"

She needed to bring their conversation back into safer territory, it was too close to touching on too much that had gone unspoken, too close to breaking the dam that she'd carefully built, she pulled away from the counter slightly.

The sudden change caught Helena off-guard, it had gone from feeling oddly intimate to nothing more than a business transaction, which, technically is all it was, all she had intended it to be when she walked into the store. The Brit cleared her throat, re-centering herself, "I was looking for a book, erm, obviously."

Myka smiled, "Well, you've come to the right place, we _do_ have lots of books after all, is there a specific one you were wanting?"

"Yes, actually, there is. I'm looking for a book called _The Nursery "Alice"_ , specifically a copy of it with a note that reads "To my darling Christina, may your adventures be every bit as impossible as those within," her voice quivering, welling up with emotions she choked back as she spoke, a pause and then she continued on. "It has been in the family since its original publishing, but due to misfortune," she spat the word out, bitter upon her tongue, venom lacing the sound itself, "it was sold years ago and I would like to reacquire it if at all possible. I've been told your shop is the best at finding rare books." She added on the last, her piercing brown eyes dark and stormy, betraying the unspoken threat, a hint of desperation, and Myka knew the importance of finding this book, she'd known from the moment she heard the inscription.

"Don't worry, I'll find it," she spoke with determination, the fire from earlier had returned, blazing within emerald gems, "No matter how long it takes, I will find it."

She got Helena's information, and internally had to promise herself that she would not use it for anything more than work. As much as she would want to take a chance on starting a relationship of some sort with the other brunette, she couldn't convince herself that it would even work that way in this world. Helena may not even be single, let alone attracted to women. And with that, unable to find a reason to continue talking to the other woman, their conversation drew to a close, nothing more than a business transaction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, if it doesn't seem likely that Myka would be released a day after having a heart attack, I actually came up with that time line based on my own experiences, I'd gone to the hospital and they'd discovered I was in the early stages due to not receiving the treatments I'd needed and they gave me a medication to stop it, the treatment I needed and monitored me overnight, I was released the next day and able to return to work within 24 hours.


End file.
